


A Late Night

by tsukist



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Best Friends, Boys' Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay, Late Night Conversations, Late Night Writing, Late at Night, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, One Year Later, Post-Episode: e025 One Year Later, Romantic Fluff, Sleeptalking, Sleepy Cuddles, Watching Someone Sleep, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukist/pseuds/tsukist
Summary: Kuroko and Kagami cuddling in bed. Very fluffy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Number 2 is also in this!

I trail my thumb along the sinuous veins of his wrist and feel his pulse thump slowly in tune with each exhale and inhale of breath, each rise and fall of his bare chest. A quiet sigh escapes his parted lips, tempting me to kiss him and steal his breath away just one more time. His brow furrows, blemishing his peaceful demeanour, and he stirs, as if my thoughts have somehow made their way into his mind even while he sleeps.

I feel my lips curve upwards into a smile. Kagami-kun looks so adorable when he sleeps; his dark face softens, and his constant scowl appears a little less intimidating in the low light. I wish I could watch him like this more often.

His hands clench at the sheets suddenly and he shifts violently beneath me, causing me to nearly lose my balance. Through the darkness enveloping the bedroom I can see his adorable, troubled expression, and it makes my heart flutter excitedly in my chest. He must be having a bad dream.

"Kuroko," he breathes my name, breaking the silence.

"What is it, Kagami-kun?" I softly ask, attempting to conceal the amusement in my voice. "Are you losing a game—against Aomine-kun, perhaps?"

His scowl grows and he grunts softly. A string of muffled noises and vulgar words erupt from his mouth and I can't help but stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, his manners are lacking.

"Idiot," he grumbles, opening his eyes suddenly as if he wasn't asleep in the first place. "As if I would lose."

My smile widens.

"Well, there was that game against Tou'ou-"

"Shut up," Kagami-kun groans, his voice heavy with sleep. Despite his obvious fatigue, he grabs my waist and effortlessly flips me onto my back. "That was the team's loss."

I absentmindedly hum a response, ignoring his childish remark—I'm used to hearing such things now that I've known Kagami-kun for so long. He buries his face in the pillow next to my head, now on top of me instead of the other way around. Despite his giant, muscular frame, he isn't as heavy as one would think, and I don't mind the added warmth.

"Was I talking in my sleep?" he asks after a few moments pass, his hot breath moistening the skin of my neck.

"Yes. It's cute."

He snorts and bites down on my collar bone with enough force to make me yelp. He's always so rough when he's embarrassed, but it's just as cute as his sleep talking. Number 2, who is just outside the door, releases an excited, sharp bark. He must have heard my outburst, and is probably still angry with Kagami-kun for not allowing him in the bedroom.

"Damn dog," he hisses, raising his head enough to glare at the closed bedroom door. When he turns to face me and our gazes meet, he smiles sheepishly and kisses the corner of my mouth.

I love it when he does that.

Actually, I find that I treasure any of the odd moments when Kagami-kun is affectionate. It's quite rare for him to kiss me first, or to even hold my hand, but perhaps it's because such things are so rare that I cherish them all the more.

"What are you thinking about?" he suddenly asks, catching me off guard.

"You," I whisper, shifting my gaze from the ceiling to his lips, "and how cute you look when you're sleeping."

Instead of biting me, he chuckles quietly and pushes his forehead against mine. The subtle smell of his cologne reaches my nose and I feel my heart skip a beat. That scent— _his_ scent—is embedded into the sheets of this bed, and all of his clothing, as well as mine of course. I love that smell.

"You're too straightforward," he whispers back virtuously, as though being candid is a fault. "How can you say stuff like that?"

I would laugh if it wasn't for the genuine look of confusion on his face and the slackness of his jaw as he considers the apparent awe that is my frankness. Without a word of response, I close the distance between us. The silence that overcomes us is cause for us to forget the topic of discussion, and eventually he's fast asleep once again, snoring and mumbling to himself about nothing in particular.

Unable to resist my own selfish temptation, I whisper three words of "goodnight" into the shell of his ear and feign sleep as he wakes.


End file.
